


Monthly Flash Fictions: A:tLA Edition

by I_Deal_In_Nightmare_Fuel



Series: Monthly Flash Fictions (in general) [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Drabble Collection, Feminist Themes, Fire Nation Royal Family, Genres Inside, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, No Smut, Other, Ratings Inside, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2019-12-27 03:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18296132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Deal_In_Nightmare_Fuel/pseuds/I_Deal_In_Nightmare_Fuel
Summary: A collection of flash fictions/drabbles/writing prompts in the A:tLA fandom. Will be updated monthly. You probably could have guessed all that from the title. (Rated for safety, individual ratings inside.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko can do some pretty strange things. Not bending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genre: Supernatural  
> Rating: Gen

There was a pattern on the floor in front of him - a five-pointed star inside a pentagon inside a circle, the points of the star coinciding with the spots where the pentagram touched its surrounding circle. Phonetic runes lay in the spaces between lines, each element and combination given its own place on the ritual. He knew well the chemical combinations this ritual would start.

He should. He'd made it.

Slowly, he began to trace the ritual - starting, as always, at the aether point - in ink made from enchanted obsidian. Every magic or chemical item here he'd either gathered or enchanted himself, from the ink he was using to the various exotic Fire Nation forest plants in jars all around the study. He checked on each one habitually as he moved around the shapes in front of him, dipping his brush in the ink as he went to keep the ritual smooth and steady in form. Runes would come later - always the base, the star-inside-pentagon-inside-circle, first. Aether done, then down counterclockwise to fire, air, water, and earth, in their turns. Then the runes, based on sounds - strange, that. He'd always thought of language as a glyphic thing, but apparently there was more than one way to go about recording what people meant.

There. Done. There was the most writing at the fire and earth point, but some at the air point. All intentional.

Wouldn't the Gaang be surprised by his little fireworks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first drabble in the fandom, but there's about a billion more on the Star Wars version. Just sayin' : )


	2. Firebird in the Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When she meets Ozai, Ursa causes quite the scandal. But phoenixes do not concern themselves with the whispers of lower creatures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Gen
> 
> Genre: Urzai First Meeting

A stir in the crowd.

Ursa turns to look as the people's heads dip suddenly, and she sees the cause of their disturbance. Prince Ozai has arrived. He glides across the ground in that way only nobles can do, and everyone else prostrates before him. Ursa almost does the same - she has heard the rumors about him. Cold. Aloof. The classic Fire Nation noble. - but then their eyes meet. He mirrors her. The same odium, the same thirst for revenge against the world. Something has broken him. Society maybe. It tried to break her.

She straightens up again. Phoenix does not bow to phoenix.

He keeps looking at her, eyebrow raising. He doesn't look angry, only surprised. Perhaps pleasantly so. The corner of his mouth keeps ticking up. Her parents hiss at her to get down from below, but she doesn't listen. She doesn't need to. She's found kindred, and everyone else can kowtow and cower.

Ozai comes to her, stepping over the bodies of everyone else in his path. He smiles now, really smiles, and stops before her. "Your name, my lady?"

She mirrors him now, smiling exactly as he does. "Ursa, great Prince."

"Ursa. You aren't one for tradition, are you?" He motions behind himself as she murmurs a 'no, great Prince,' and the crowd stands up, hesitantly, whispering to themselves about scandals and impropriety.

She doesn't care. Phoenixes like her and Ozai don't care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry I didn't get to you guys back in April. Life has been crazy. Also, yes, this does tie into some of my extensive headcanons about Ozai's background and the Fire Nation in general. As always, comments are very welcome!


	3. Chaos Distilled and Applejuice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaos, for Jet, is only an apple away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Gen
> 
> Genre: Horror/Supernatural

_What is that?_ is all Jet can think when he spots the thing at the side of his bed. It seems like some sort of fruit, at least in shape, but it's pure gold–impossibly gold. He runs his thumb along the smooth surface, marveling at its metallic-yet-soft feel. There are marks on one side. He studies them, trying to make something of the odd shapes and lines–and then they _move._

Characters form from the mess of wriggling lines. _FOR THE FAIREST_

He blinks, and the characters start wriggling again, creating another, longer set of words.

_Hello, grandson. Enjoy your Apple of Discord._

_-Eris_

Apple of Discord? He's never heard of anything like that, though he isn't one for campfire stories. Maybe one of his kids would know...but something told him to keep this hidden. He could feel the chaos and war radiating off of the object.

Best to keep it hidden for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAND it's July. Hope no-one's too disappointed by the delay, but no-one ever really reads these, do they?


	4. Pain and How It Heals You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Katara talk about something surprising they have in common. (Bechdel/Reverse Bechdel Tests, zero of six criteria reached)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T (for mentions of self-harm)
> 
> Genre: Angst/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Katara is woken in the night by a sound outside her door - a footstep. Usually she's the one creeping around at night, so this is different. She slides out of bed silently and creeps to her door. A flash of red catches her eye - Zuko? What's he doing up this late?

She decides to investigate. She follows him closely. He seems...distracted. In the light of the moon, as they move out to the patio, she can see dark lines on the skin of his arms. He starts rifling through their supplies, and she sneaks up behind him.

"What are you doing?" she accuses.

He whirls, guilt written clear on his face. "I - um - I - do you have any bandages?"

Bandages? That might be an allusion to the lines on his arms. Now that she's up close, she can sense it's blood. "You...you cut?"

The question takes him by surprise - so much so that he tells the truth. "I - yea. I just - need some bandages."

She sighs. "Come over here," she says, waving him over to one of the benches and taking out her waterskin. The water glows a little as she takes it out and focuses on channelling her healing energy. "Just relax. I'll have this fixed up in no time."

"You're not - you're not going to..."

"Judge? No." She paused, and then said what she'd never thought she'd say, especially to _Zuko_. "I used to do it too."

He looks up at her, confused and relieved all at the same time. "You...why?" is all he eventually says.

She shrugs. "I just...I don't know. It was like my brain was numb - still is, a little. I couldn't feel. I didn't know if anyone else had suffered the same thing, and I had to be strong for my tribe, and I couldn't turn to Sokka because - well, he was Sokka. One day I accidentally cut myself with an ice form I was trying and, well... It made me feel better." She was done with about half of the lines - Zuko must have had a _really_ bad day.

He nods in agreement. "For me...for me it was fear. I was always on the verge of panic, and it was worse when people were around, especially my crew. I accidentally cut myself in practice and realized that I could use pain to make myself feel better. When Uncle found out, he thought I was punishing myself. Made me promise not to do it again, to tell him if I was feeling guilty for something, but that...that wasn't why I was doing it."

She'd gotten another quarter done while he was rambling. "Half done. What prompted it this time?" He winces, and she realizes her mistake. "I mean - you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I just...I just wanted to know."

"It's fine." He waves her off with his good arm. "I just had a little panic attack for no reason."

"Mm." It's good to know that none of them caused it - unless he was lying? But no. Zuko was a terrible liar. She'd have been able to tell.

Katara finishes the rest of of Zuko's lines and stands up. "That's all of them. Now go to bed - you need your rest."

"So do you," he points out.

"Yes, and I'm going back to bed too. No 'extra practice,' now."

"You know about that?"

"I know everything," she says, pushing him gently towards the door. "Go to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm starting a new challenge (of my own devising) based on the Bechdel Test, which goes something like this: 1) There are at least two women, who 2) have a conversation about 3) something other than a man. For each requirement to be fulfilled, all the preceding requirements need to be fulfilled as well. The Reverse Bechdel Test is the same, but with the genders reversed. I'm going to be writing stories at each level of neither, one, or both that specifically try to break expectations of how feminist/equal each requirement would imply. It's going to be a fun ride.
> 
> Also, that went way longer than I expected. These two had a lot to say.


	5. Power and Corrupting Young Ladies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother was right. Power is not for a young lady of honor. (BT, zero of three criteria reached, RBT, one of three criteria reached)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genre: Romance-ish, Villainy, Horror
> 
> Rating: K plus

Boots clicked through the stone hallways, echoing up and down - not that anybody could hear it over the hubbub of officials, generals and sycophants clustered around the doors to the Fire Lord's personal chambers. These were the best of the best, the upper crust of the upper crust, the people who decided the nation's fate. And all of them were men.

Ursa tried to calm her shaking hands. Ozai was by her side, walking far too fast for her to keep up with comfortably, which did nothing to help her nervousness. She had to sprint back up to him every thirty seconds.

"Why are your legs so long!" she hissed after another sprint, grabbing his arm to stop him. "Slow down!"

He turned to her, slight amusement on his face. They were almost to the crowd. "I have to beat you there, don't I? To introduce you."

She glared at him with a face that she suspected was more stop-being-right than you're-wrong-and-you-know-it. Her suspicions were confirmed as Ozai gently pushed her off his arm. "Stay behind me now, up until you're introduced."

"Do you think they'll like me?" she managed to ask before Ozai walked away completely.

"It doesn't matter whether they _like_ you, dear. It matters whether they'll follow your orders." He strode ahead now, and Ursa followed nervously. Her mother had drilled into her that a proper lady must be gentle and kind and submissive, and must never give someone a reason to not like her. They were not supposed to _order_ , they were supposed to _request,_ and it wasn't ladylike to want to have power.

Of course, she'd done a lot of unladylike things since she'd married the Prince.

His voice rang out, cutting through the court's babble. "Introducing the Princess Ursa!" Ursa spotted Zhao off to the side. He seemed - jealous? She couldn't tell from this far away, but her attention was diverted to the crowd in front of her as she stepped out from behind her husband. They were bowing, deeply, respectfully.

They were bowing to _her_.

Suddenly she realized why Ozai had told her to wait. Mother had always said that a woman's proper place was in the home, serving her husband. She'd said to be quiet, to be respectful, to be prim and proper and to never raise her voice. She'd said that power would corrupt a young lady, make her unmanageable (and no man wants an unmanageable wife), ruin her prospects and get her cast out of society. She'd said many things, most of which Ursa had chafed at.

The display in front of her was proof that Ursa was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Finally done with that. I am very much an Urzai shipper (is that why no-one reads my stuff?) and yes, I like to deal with feminist themes. Also, again, more headcanon for my son Ozai (even if he was a side character here). See if you can guess what it is. Comments and kudos are very welcome!


	6. Undiagnosed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek at Ozai and Zhao's relationship during the teenage years. (BT, zero of three criteria reached, RBT, all criteria reached)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genre: Angst
> 
> Rating: T (mention of adult themes)

Ozai has the bruises again.

How long had the Prince been getting them? It seems like forever. They'd started maybe a year after they met. Zhao can see them ringing his (crush? friend? lover?) Prince's neck like some horrible noose had been twisted around it. Ozai's collared cape lays on the floor by his bed, and his shirt is almost hanging off him. Like it's been ripped. Like someone tried to expose him.

But who? And how? Ozai's the greatest firebender Zhao's ever met - he switches his flame's color as easily as he switches paints. No-one can overpower him. Of that, Zhao's sure. And no-one of the divine Royal Family is really sick enough to do that to one of their own.

Right?

But enough of futile speculation. Even if Zhao figures out who, they're probably out of reach. Zhao and Ozai sometimes have fantasies of running away, finding some place in the outer reaches of the nation or the colonies where they could build a life for themselves with Ozai's paintings and Zhao doing...something, anything, to help them survive, but those are hopeless fancies. There's nothing Zhao can do.

"Ozai," he murmurs, standing over his friend. The heap of misery on the bed stirs, revealing a handsome face and despairing eyes. Somehow the bruises never appear on his face. "Let - let me see your wounds."

It's their routine. Whenever the bruises strike, Zhao tries his best to treat the serious wounds. He slips the damaged shirt off his Prince's damaged body, trying not to aggravate the injuries. Scratches and burns mar where the bruises haven't touched. Ozai's ribs are visible.

"Be gentle," Ozai murmurs. As if he needs to tell him.

There are bandages in the left second drawer down of Ozai's vanity. Zhao fetches them and starts pressing gauze to Ozai's bleeding wounds and slathering aloe on the burns. Tiny gasps of pain are all he hears from the prince as he treats the injuries. As snarky as Ozai could be at other times, when he'd gotten a fresh round of these mysterious injuries, he almost never speaks.

It takes...a while, but Zhao has done all he can. His hands fall from busily rubbing ointment to resting on Ozai's side. Ozai's still despairing. It will take a while for him to get back to his normal self.

He stares for a while, a little of the dark fog in his prince's eyes seeping into his own mind. Eventually Ozai shifts over - his actions delayed, his movements sluggish - and Zhao lays down beside him. He will give what little comfort he can, though it's hard not knowing what the issue is. He feels like a doctor prescribing pain medication without knowing if a headache is a migraine or a stroke.

Agni, why must he be so helpless?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so sorry to the three people still reading this, this is so late. More headcanon for Ozai. I have...a lot. As always, comments, suggestions, prompts and kudos are all very welcome.


End file.
